The Noble Mercenary

by Patrick John Donahoe

  Ian looked at his traveling companions, then back to Abram.

  Abram continued, “It will be soon dark. Sup with us, we will water and feed your horses. You may leave at first light to arrive in Constantinople before noon.”

  “Thank you, Abram. We appreciate your hospitality.”

  The riders all dismounted. “Where can we guard our prisoners?”

  “We will assist with them.” Abram spit into the sand at his feet. “German dogs, killers and rapists of men, women and children. We will assist you with them that you might have a night’s rest.”

  “Please don’t kill them in the night. We must take them to our justice.”

  “For you, I will spare them,” Abram replied, “but with regret.”

  That evening around the campfire, Ian, Jacques, Dugan and James enjoyed swapping tales of hunting, dealing with tradesmen, what lay ahead in Constantinople, and the latest events in Jerusalem with Abram. Abram proved to be a courteous and generous host.

  They were fed a feast of spiced roasted lamb, rough vegetables and black tea. The women of the camp kept their distance from the Frankish knights and Abram’s kinsmen looked upon them with curiosity and some fear. Crusaders still poured through the countryside viewing Muslims and Jews as enemies, and the tribesmen reciprocated.

  Abram asked Ian, “Where did you obtain such a fine scimitar?”

  “We have a master swordsmith in Jerusalem who created it to my special requirements.”

  “May I examine it?”

  Ian removed the weapon from its custom sheath and handed it to Abram like a sacred relic.

  Abram hefted the scimitar, felt its heft and balance, examined the hilt, and the smooth curve and keenness of the blade. “This sword is of the finest craftsmanship. How may I obtain such a marvelous weapon?”

  “Visit us one day in Jerusalem and I will introduce you to the swordsmith.”

  “We are not welcome in Jerusalem.”

  “Come to the gate and tell the guard that Ian LeFriant, the head palace guard, and Jacques LeFriant, the head guard of the Holy Sepulcher, invited you. They will summon one of us and we will escort you as we would our own father.”

  “You are truly unusual knights.”

  “That is what Ishmael told us,” Ian laughed a low guttural laugh and Abram joined him in the humor.

  Ian visited Ishmael’s father, Akram, meaning ‘most generous’ in Arabic, and gave him some of his sleeping medicine. He did not reveal that it was a mixture of date wine and chamomile tea, since the tribesmen foreswore alcoholic beverages. He hoped Akram would not notice the wine aspect of the medicine due to the overpowering flavors of dates and chamomile, and thereby gain a restful night’s sleep.

  At first light the next morning, Ian and his companions left for Constantinople, but not before Abram reiterated, “We remain in your debt. My brother had a restful night’s sleep and seems to be recovering. Peace be with you.”

  “Peace be with you and all of your tribesmen,” Ian replied.

  Abram repeated his hugging and kissing on both cheeks, and then patted the left shoulders of each of Ian’s three companions in a gesture of friendship. Ian knew the tribesmen did not shake right hands as was the custom of Franks due to viewing the right hand as unclean.

  After a three hour ride the group arrived at the gates of Constantinople.

  Ian approached the guard at the right side of the gate before he was beckoned. “We are here on King Baldwin’s errand, to deliver these knights to Alexius Emperor of Constantinople for justice.”

  The guard looked Ian over, glanced at his five companions and asked, “Have the Germans committed some offense against the Emperor?” pointing at the prisoners.

  “Not directly, but against King Baldwin, and since they are German Knights, King Baldwin has asked that Alexius judge them.”

  “Pass, sir knights. Go straight until you can go straight no longer. Another sentry will direct you to your final destination.”

  Ian was exhausted from their journey and he knew his companions were also. The sooner they could turn their prisoners over to Alexius’ guards the better. Depending on Alexius’ whims they could be forced to remain in Constantinople for days, or maybe weeks. The sooner they could return home to Jerusalem the better. As they made their way to the palace, Ian noticed the cosmopolitan nature of the city. All stripes and ethnicities of persons seemed to wander freely about, even more so than in Baldwin’s Jerusalem, to Ian’s surprise.

  The variety and proliferation of shops and vendors amazed Ian, not that there wasn’t some variety in Jerusalem, but for the most part the Jewish and Arabic vendors were only day visitors to Jerusalem. A handful, like Serena and her father Mordecai, and Desiree lived in the city as the exceptions rather than the rule. Ian wondered how all these people could live together in peace, Jew, Muslim, Frank, German, Italian, and Anglo. Ian had fought more battles than he could remember, but would rather obtain peaceful resolutions with gain for all involved, than bloody solutions by the sword.

  Ian rode up to the two sentries at the end of the road.

  “Who approaches?” asked the sentry in charge.

  “We are knights on an errand from King Baldwin charged with delivering these two knights to be judged by the Emperor. We have a letter for Alexius sealed by King Baldwin. Ian held out the scroll for the guard to see. Ian assumed the guard would recognize the official seal and nature of the document even though he probably could not read, and was not authorized to break the seal.

  The sentry in charge turned to the second sentry and said, “Stephan, go with these men to the prison compound and turn the prisoners over to Jerome, then bring the rest back to me.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ian, Jacques, James and Dugan prodded the German knights along behind Stephan. The prison was a plain white stucco covered building with an iron-gate entryway. Ian again explained the purpose for bringing the prisoners to Constantinople to the jailer, Jerome, and that they needed to be kept under lock and key until the day of their trial, preferably in chains, as they were very dangerous.

  Jerome placed an iron collar around each prisoner’s neck. One collar was engraved with the number LIV and the other with LV. “Remember your prisoner’s numbers so they can be called up when required. We have limited space in our humble prison, so try to get an audience as soon as possible. We seldom incarcerate knights unless they have committed an offense against the Emperor.”

  “Attempted assassination of King Baldwin of Jerusalem.”

  “Our executioner is handy with both axe and hemp,” Jerome replied in a menacing voice.

  Oswald, the younger of the two prisoners, shouted a German profanity and tried to lunge at Jerome, but Ian knocked Oswald aside with a crushing punch to the face. Oswald fell to the ground unconscious, and it took both Jerome and Stephan to get him back onto his feet and hustled into a cell.

  “We will keep close watch on those two,” Jerome assured Ian.

  “For your own safety.”

  Stephan led the four back to the palace gate. “You may leave your horses and provisions within the gate. They will not be disturbed while you make arrangements for your audience with the Emperor. You may bunk down in the guards’ quarters next to the stables. Tell Michael, our charge of quarters, that Stephan sent you. He will accommodate you the best he can.”

  “Thank you Stephan, you have been extremely helpful.”

  Michael, the Charge of Quarters, or CQ, provided four bunks and four woolen horse blankets, and a rough meal of porridge and day old bread. Ian shook out his hole-ridden woolen blanket and decided to sleep on the bunk in his clothes.

  When the sun rose, and the guards’ rooster crowed, Ian rose up from the uncomfortable bunk and rousted the others from their slumbers. His back ached, but the smell of breakfast perked him up. The four feasted on a breakfast of fresh eggs and ham, fresh bread and goat’s milk. Apparently the Emperor’s guards were well fed at the appointed hours.

  After mak
ing themselves as presentable as possible, the four made their way to the office of the Emperor’s scheduler, Jeremy Justine.

  Jeremy Justine made the four wait outside his office for two hours, but once inside was a gracious, even though overburdened, host. After introductions all around, Jeremy said, “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  Jacques, James and Dugan sat on the benches on either side of the room, while Ian took the straight back chair in front of the Scheduler’s desk. The desk was piled high with official looking scrolls, books and paraphernalia. Behind his desk was a wall calendar with each day of the month filled in with times and events. On the floor along the walls lay official looking scrolls and packages that looked like gifts, perhaps bribes to obtain audience with the Emperor.

  “In the interest of saving time,” Jeremy said, “I heard you would be arriving soon with your prisoners, and have frankly been dreading your arrival.”

  “What seems to be the concern?” asked Ian.

  “You know very well what the concern is,” Jeremy gave Ian a stern worried look. “If your King felt just cause for execution of your German prisoners, he should have beheaded them in Jerusalem instead of bringing your problem here.”

  “He did not want to start a war between Germany and France.”

  “And neither do I! A German delegation has already arrived to defend your prisoners. Bringing your prisoners here could start a war between Germany and France with Constantinople caught in between.”

  “But Jerusalem is liege to Constantinople.”

  The Scheduler burst out laughing, “Only when it pleases your King Baldwin. Give me your orders from Baldwin that I might read them.”

  Ian handed the official sealed scroll to the Scheduler.

  Jeremy placed the scroll on top of the stack of scrolls already covering the desk.

  “Fortune smiles on you, the Emperor has an audience opening tomorrow afternoon. I will notify the Emperor’s advisors, and the German delegation to be there. Bring your prisoners in good condition, the German’s are quite angry. They say Heinrich the Fifth had nothing to do with this alleged attempted assassination, and the letter you are carrying is a fraud. They claim the two knights must have been duped by someone trying to create conflict. No matter the outcome, the Emperor wants this problem to go away as easily, and as quickly, as possible.

  Return tomorrow promptly at 3 P.M. with your prisoners in good condition, and your story well-rehearsed. Give this appointment card to the guard at the door of the anteroom to the throne room. I’ll escort you into the throne room. If I’m not there when you arrive, wait for me. You are all dismissed.”

  The four bedded down for the night in the guard’s quarters. As exhausted as he was from their journey, Ian still woke twice during the night, one time when a rat ran across his chest, and the second time when two guards returned to their quarters drunk and boisterous.

  The next morning at daybreak they arose and freshened up as best as they could, washing their faces and hands in the wash basin in the corner of the room, and polishing their armor. They ate their fill in the guard’s mess and decided to spend the morning in the marketplace. Ian and Jacques purchased silk scarves and silver bangles encrusted with semi-precious stones for Serena and Desiree. At noon they ate their fill of exotic foods from the many vendors in the marketplace. Ian enjoyed a large plate of curried rice with lamb bits, while Jacques provided each of the four of them with a large tankard of dark ale.

  The four collected their prisoners, who appeared much the worse for wear at the hands of the Emperor’s guards, an hour prior to their appointment. Ian gave them each a loaf of bread smothered in clear honey which they devoured like ravenous wolves, but offered no thanks. They then took the two prisoners to the guard’s quarters and supervised them while they washed their faces and hands, and brushed their clothes with a horse brush, to try to make them more presentable before the Emperor.

  Ian presented the red appointment card to the guard at the doorway to the anteroom of the throne room. “Wait here until Mr. Justine arrives,” the guard instructed.

  Ian noted another guard, dressed in full polished armor, open visor, and a blue feather plume protruding from the peak of his helmet, at the doorway into the throne room.

  The Scheduler arrived within minutes and said, “Good, you’re early. The Emperor is granting the German delegation an audience as we speak, so I’ll usher you right in.” The Scheduler brushed past the throne room guard and escorted Ian and his group with the two prisoners in tow to the side of the German delegation.

  Ian was impressed with the opulence of the throne room; decorated with grand tapestries hanging from all the walls, large ornate pieces of furniture sitting along the sides of the room, and the oversized throne sitting on a raised floor at the front of the room. The Emperor’s advisors sat on mahogany benches on each side of the throne with his chief advisor seated to his right. The throne was gold leafed and ornate with filigree and scrolling, and jewels set in the corners of the seat and headboard.

  The Emperor, Alexius, wore a full length purple robe with animal fur trim at the hem and sleeve ends. His jeweled gold crown sat on a pillow on a small table to his left. His light brown hair was tousled as though purposely mussed. He had an almost handsome face with piercing brown eyes which looked upon his domain with a keen intelligence. He listened to the German delegation through an interpreter standing slightly to the left and behind the throne.

  The Emperor interrupted the German emissary’s remarks and motioned for the Scheduler and Ian’s party to come forward. The German delegation’s hatred radiated like a bonfire.

  The Emperor addressed Ian in French, “Good knight, do you bring these men to me for judgment?”

  “I do, your Majesty.”

  “And what are the charges?”

  “As addressed in his correspondence with your eminence, they are charged with conspiring to assassinate King Baldwin.”

  “What proof do you offer of this conspiracy?”

  “I have a letter from King Heinrich the Fifth tasking these two men to do the deed, and we heard them say that the new swords they had just purchased would be excellent weapons to carry out their task.”

  “You heard them say this?”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “You speak German?”

  “Not fluently sire, only a few words and phrases.”

  “How did you obtain this letter?”

  “We followed the two knights to their quarters when they refused to pay for their swords. After a brief skirmish, and subduing them, we searched their room and found the letter, and I placed them under arrest.”

  “Using your authority as the head palace guard.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “I see. Did anyone else hear the knight’s plot to assassinate Baldwin?”

  “Yes, sire, the swordsmith’s daughter.”

  “She speaks German?”

  “Only a few words and phrases. Enough to conduct business.”

  “This delegation tells me she is a Jewess.”

  “Yes, sire, the German knights tried to cheat her father out of paying for the swords he made for them.”

  “So maybe she heard what she wanted to hear, and you are just mistaken in what you heard.”

  “I don’t think so sire, the swordsmith and his daughter are honest craft persons.”

  “I see. And what of this incriminating letter from Heinrich the Fifth?”

  “May I approach your Highness?”

  “No, you may not. Hand the letter to my Scheduler to present to me.”

  “Sire, we have not had the opportunity to examine this letter,” the German delegation representative protested.

  “Duly noted. You will have your opportunity.”

  Ian handed the letter to Jeremy, who carried it up the steps, and bowing before Alexius, handed the scroll to him.

  The Emperor held the scroll so that his interpreter could scan the page while he examined the format and seal. “Tran
slate this document in a loud voice so all present may benefit from hearing the contents.”

  The translator read the letter aloud first in French. Alexius listened intently to the French translation while the German delegation and the two prisoners fidgeted nervously.

  As the translator began to reread the document in German, the German emissary protested, “This document is a fraud. Heinrich the Fifth did not commission these two honorable knights to kill Baldwin.”

  “I will give you permission to speak after I have heard the full text.” Alexius fixed a piercing glare on the emissary. “Do not speak unless I grant you permission.”

  After listening to both versions, Alexius contemplated his response for a few moments and then addressed the group at large, “Either the letter is real, or an excellent fraud. It appears the two prisoners were serving their king, either under official orders, or duped by someone who desired to foment strife between your two countries. We, royalty, cannot afford to have knights roaming about the country intending to assassinate us under any conditions. Just carrying such a letter would normally be considered a capital offense.”

  The German delegation representative started to protest, but Alexius glared at him. “Do you quarrel with my attempt at summation?”

  “No, sire.”

  “Very well. The testimony of this honorable French knight, although sincere may not be accurate due to his limited facility with the German language. The swordsmith’s daughter, being a Jewess with motives that might stem from business dealings, her limited facility with the German language, and her non-presence, makes her testimony moot. What do the accused have to say in their defense?”

  The translator asked the German knights what they had to say in their defense.

  The younger German knight, Oswald, shook his chains and shouted out defiantly in German.

  “What was his response?” Alexius asked his translator.

  “He said, death to the Jew and Muslim lover, Baldwin.”

  “He condemns himself. What is the other knight’s response?”

  The older knight bowed his head, and replied.

  “What did he say?” Alexius asked.